Odds and Ends

It’s pretty low key around Casa de RH today as we are all exhausted and unwilling to leave the house because we were barely able to be at our house this weekend as we had six showings on Saturday and an Open House and another showing on Sunday. Apparently we all like the house that we are trying to sell – SRH slept in late and drug his feet this morning before finally going to work, Zane and I joined SRH in sleeping in late and didn’t change out of our pajamas until late morning, and it doesn’t look like we’re leaving this place for the rest of the day.

That’s great for me, but doesn’t give rise to much blog fodder. So today, I’ll just chat about “bits and pieces”.

The Art of Positive Parenting

Because I believe that parenting is a careful balance between exerting enough control and influence that your children don’t grow up to be sub-functioning people who eat cheese and wear boots on their heads and letting them be the natural little heathens that they are, I am constantly asking myself whether my rules are arbitrary (i.e. good for me) or rational (i.e. good for Zane and me). As you might guess, the pendulum swings back and forth on this one, and I’m never quite sure that I have it right.

My friend B.Q. teaches parenting and is raising a “spirited” child, and she gave me a tip once. (Actually she’s given me a million tips. She is one of those mamas who is always prepared. It makes one feel a little inadequate sometimes, but then, you’re just glad she’s around to help your sorry behind out or you’d really mess up this parenting thing.)

Anyway, B.Q. sometimes let’s her little girl be the “boss” for a while. It is fun for her daughter and gives her back a little control so that when B.Q. does set limits, her daughter is more likely to listen. (As an aside, I’m completely sure that toddlers feel like their lives are ruled by crazy, conformity-at-all-costs big people who are just trying to kill their buzz.)

So this morning, Zane got to set the rules at tooth brushing time. This was his vision: His entire family (SRH, me, and Zane) sitting on the edge of a bathtub in a row and brushing our teeth while singing the “Brush, Brush, Bree” song by Bear and the Big Blue House.

I had some trouble getting the vision at first, so Zane had to bodily push me onto the rim of the tub while saying “mama chair” and then had to stop mid-singing because Papa wasn’t bopping his head with the music in the right way. It ended with much giggling and smiling by Z and since we were alone in the house, no real lasting damage to our dignity, so I guess we struck a balance this morning.

Preschool is My Nemesis

I found out last week that Zane probably wouldn’t get into the preschool of our choice – the university-sponsored preschool where I work – and I panicked. Really, I am not one to obsess about curricula or philosophy, I was just counting on that particular preschool because, being publicly funded, they are unable to turn down my child for admittance based on his health issues. With his multiple food allergies and severe asthma, he’s not an ideal child to take responsibility for, and I have heard many horror stories about kids being kicked out or denied entrance to childcare because of similar concerns. So, because I was mortally afraid that someone would turn down my perfect angel, I chose the path of avoidance and only applied to one other school in our area because I heard that they are good with food allergic kids.

Lucky for us, the school called this morning, and Zane has been admitted. Yea! I talked with the director briefly, and she seemed totally fine with what I have planned to address his health needs. Double yea! I swear, I almost cried when she told me that he’d been admitted.

Fighting the Mormons

Okay, this is a story from one of my friends, but I just had to link to it, because it cracks me up (here). I think every mama has had a day when they are so “over it”, and then to be accosted by teenage evangelizers…

Well...so...apparently, I had more to say today than I thought.